Godstiel's Family Dinner Special
by INMH
Summary: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6, IN PARTICULAR THE FINALE. Cr-aaaack… Fill for a prompt on spn balthazar: "Family dinner had never been more awkward". Castiel sits down with his family for a nice dinner. His family is not so comfortable.


Godstiel's Family Dinner Special

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Humor/Parody  
>Summary: Cr-aaaack… Fill for a prompt on spn_balthazar: "Family dinner had never been more awkward". Castiel sits down with his family for a nice dinner. His family is not so comfortable.<p>

Author's Note: …Pfft… Another fill for spn_balthazar! These are fun! ESPECIALLY THIS 'UN.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural; it belongs to Eric Kripke (And you're about to see why that's a good thing).<p>

()()

Balthazar had never been good at apologies.

But he could kiss-ass like a pro when he needed to.

Which was probably why Castiel had let him have the not-quite-human resources position in regards to this little party he was throwing.

Party. Right.

We'll go with that.

Balthazar's job, in essence, was to make sure that everyone knew how _bad_ of an idea it would be to, say, do or say something that might provoke Castiel to actions of violence during dinner. He knew the urge would be there, very tempting, and Lucifer in particular had never been good with handling temptations. Or attempts at physical violence. And Raphael had some particular animosity towards Castiel for patent reasons.

And a few others.

"So you're telling me," Virgil gave Balthazar a truly vengeful look (No surprise there, Virgil probably took more issue with Balthazar for a number of reasons, starting with his attitude and ending with the fact that Balthazar had filched most of the angelic weapons right out from under his nose-). "That you pulled me out of that nightmare of an alternate universe for a dinner party with someone I _hate?_"

"Would you rather have continued your stay in that alternate universe's maximum security prison remaining as a prison bitch to that rather terrifying specimen of human I witnessed dominating you?"

Virgil went dark red and didn't say anything more.

Everyone was in formal wear, the ladies in dresses (that being Anna and Rachel, as apparently Raphael still considered himself male enough to not wear a dress), the men in fairly formal wear (which, for most of them, was relatively typical). Lucifer, the rebellious little shit that he was, remained in the same clothing his vessel had been wearing at the time of his possession and nothing more.

Lucifer, it seemed, was going to be a problem that night.

"Nice meat-suit." He cooed to Raphael.

"Shut up."

"I mean it, she's hot."

"Lucifer, I'm _warning_ you-"

"Besides, I think it's good you've finally settled into a vessel you can clearly identify better with than a male-"

Balthazar acted quickly, leaping forward, seizing Raphael's hand in mid-smiting and redirecting it down at the table, which lost a large chuck of wood in the impact. Balthazar sighed, grit his teeth, and then glared at Raphael pointedly.

"If you want to go the night without getting yourself blown up _again_, I would suggest you sit down and shut up and _ignore_ Lucifer. And everyone else here. Rachel- Put away the sword." Rachel, who had been glaring at Raphael in a very cold and ugly fashion, slowly removed the blade she'd placed on the tabletop and slid it out of sight, probably onto her lap. Balthazar made a note to keep an eye on her.

"Is he… _Here_, yet?" Anna inquired softly, glancing back and forth. Something told Balthazar that she'd gotten over her Glenn Close phase. He shrugged hopelessly.

"I have no idea. He doesn't tell me anything."

"Apparently that's become a common theme of his," Uriel said sleekly, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands on his lap. Balthazar gave him a simmering look.

"Mm. Say, Uriel, would you like me to conjure up a cat for you to stroke while you say that? It would really compliment the villainous-douchebag look you've got going on quite well." Uriel responded with a slight sniff, but nothing else.

"Is Joshua coming? Please tell me Joshua's coming." Gabriel's voice was muffled into the tablecloth, as he was face-down on the table.

"Joshua respectfully declined the offer, and Castiel did not make an issue of it."

"No one makes an issue with Joshua," Rachel said matter-of-factly, slipping a smug look at Zachariah, who glared back at her.

"I outrank him."

"Doesn't make you any less of a bitch."

Zachariah spluttered at that, unaccustomed to Rachel (who used to be quite the little robot) mouthing off. Balthazar felt inexplicable pride in that moment for his younger sister.

"You _are_ kind of an irredeemable bitch, Zach," Gabriel agreed, turning his face upward just enough so that Zachariah could see his unrepentantly mocking smirk.

"Gabriel, stop calling Zachariah a bitch."

Damn it. Michael was using the 'I Am Your Big Brother You Will Obey' voice.

"That's right, stick up for your bitch."

"He is not my bitch."

"Whatever you say: Zachariah, has Michael ever slapped you?"

"Gabriel, don't go there."

"Go where?"

"I want to see where it's going." Lucifer chimed in brightly, and Balthazar winced and turned away. This was not going to end well. Where in the _hell_ was Castiel? Okay, so he was a- was _God_, so he could do whatever he damn well pleased, but what was the point in arranging a dinner party just so he could skip out on it-?

The room darkened significantly.

The sound of an eerie, tinkling music box echoed through the dining room, and it went on for perhaps two minutes before, out of the shadows, Castiel appeared.

Balthazar, after returning his heart and breathing rates to normal (or as normal as they were going to get right now), was surprised to see that, evidently, Castiel had had _some_ exposure to pop-culture, as evidenced by the red tricycle he entered the room on, a swirly lollipop in one hand, clearly an imitation of that odd little psycho-puppet from the SAW series.

Castiel rose from the tricycle, completely straight-faced, and stood by his seat at the head of the table, looking out over his siblings, ninety percent of whom had betrayed, harmed or had tried to kill him in the past (Balthazar was certain about everyone but Anna). His face was starting to peel, making him look eerily like Lucifer had in the final days before He-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Named-In-Castiel's-Presence said yes and stopped the apocalypse along with He-Who-Is-Definitely-Not-To-Even-Be-Mentioned-In-Passing-No-Matter-How-Vaguely-In-Castiel's-Presence.

He was still holding the lollipop.

Balthazar laughed weakly, and really it wasn't even a laugh; it might have been a whimper.

"Really now, Cas," He squeaked. "A lollipop before dinner? Wouldn't want to ruin your appetite."

Castiel turned only his head to look at Balthazar. Then, very deliberately, he raised the lollipop to his mouth and gave it one, long lick.

Balthazar shuddered and sank into his seat.

_Damn_ had Cas gone off the deep end.

"Welcome," Castiel said coolly, "Traitors and backstabbers and haters that dared to once invoke themselves as my family."

"Off to a wonderful start." Balthazar muttered, covering his eyes.

"We have all gathered here tonight for the sake of a family dinner, the likes of which will allow me to determine if I should keep you alive or smite you into oblivion once again, as several of you are complete assholes who deserve it."

Castiel's eyes seemed to be locked on Raphael.

"But you may yet be useful. So prove yourselves to me."

Uriel rolled his eyes.

"Am I really the only one here who thinks that this is insane-?"

"_EUAAAGH!_"

Castiel's face went obscenely pale, red veins highlighting it, his eyes turning black with dark red pupils. His head was cocked so far to the right that it ran perpendicular to his neck, and his tongue lolled out in a massive, maroon monstrosity surrounded by alarmingly sharp, yellowed teeth. All in all, he looked like he could have been Linda Blair's understudy in the Exorcist.

Everyone was silent, staring in mute shock and horror and alarming blankness at Castiel.

Zachariah suddenly grabbed his glass of wine and downed it like a shot. Uriel had gone pale. Virgil sank down in his seat a bit. Raphael's nails had dug deeply into the wood of the chair.

Gabriel cautiously raised a hand. "Cas?"

"Yes, Gabriel?"

"Could I be excused? I need to change my pants."

"And you had the nerve," Lucifer muttered under his breath, glaring daggers at Michael, "The sheer, _raw_ nerve to call _me_ psycho."

"You _are_ psycho. Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Man-whore."

"Tight-ass."

"Scum-sucker."

Horse-rider."

"What's so wrong about riding horses?" Lucifer grinned- well, devilishly.

"Not the kind of riding I was referring to."

Zachariah spit a mouthful of wine out. Gabriel let out an unrestrained bout of hysterical laughter before clamping his mouth shut and glancing warily at Castiel. Oddly enough, he didn't look angry: If anything, a little nauseated.

"I was hoping we could go the night without talk of bestiality." He mumbled, almost sounding like his old self for a second. Balthazar, however, didn't dare to hope.

"It's always a knee-slapper, Cas." Lucifer said mildly.

All in all, Balthazar considered that the night could have been going worse: No one was dead yet (He'd been fairly certain that Raphael was going to be dead from the get-go), the spats were minor and hadn't resulted in the room being wrecked (only that incident with Raphael and the near-smiting, and everyone seemed to be ignoring the gaping hole in the table) and Castiel seemed pretty loosely wound.

For now.

Castiel sat down. He place the lollipop on the table, and with his freaky-God-powers made it so that it could stand up and stay balanced on the thin white stick protruding from the candy.

"Why the hell does he have a lollipop?" Zachariah mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

"I like lollipops." Castiel answered flatly. "They are tasty. And swirly. And I can also do this-" He proceeded to grab the lollipop by the stick, turned to Uriel, who was seated to his right, and then proceeded to bitch-slap him with the confectionery treat. It made a unexpectedly loud cracking noise against Uriel's cheek, and the angel looked sufficiently shocked at the motion, as did most of the others.

This time, though, Uriel was wise enough to keep his mouth shut about it.

Balthazar cleared his throat as Castiel straightened out the lollipop's stick (it had bent slightly from the force of the impact). "So! Should we, uh- Get down to the main course?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "What about the appetizers?"

"Apparently there was a mix-up: The nutters at the catering service tried to send us twelve dozen baby teeth and a crate full of tarantulas."

"That wasn't a mix-up."

Balthazar covered his eyes again. "I think we should just get to the main course." Castiel huffed a sigh.

"Fine." He snapped his fingers and a slab of meat appeared on everyone's plates. "And now we say grace."

"Oh dear Lord." Gabriel muttered, running a hand over his face.

"Yes?" Castiel responded.

"Not- It- _Ugh_. Whatever."

"I'll do it."

"NO." Balthazar glared at Lucifer, who was smiling with all of the bullshit innocence in the world. Nothing good would come of _Lucifer_ trying to say grace. Nothing at all. Sunday dinners in heaven had never _been_ more awkward than when Lucifer opened his big mouth (Though, Balthazar contemplated, Cas might have been a bit too young to remember those occasions. And also because he may have once accidentally smacked his little brother in the head with a serving platter).

"If Lucifer would like to say grace," Castiel said, "Then he can."

"In what _world_ is that a good idea?" Balthazar retorted.

"The world where I'm God and I can turn your ass into charcoal with a thought." Balthazar coughed slightly and settled back in his seat.

"Right. That world. Lovely. You were saying, Luci?"

Lucifer smiled sweetly. The other three archangels were eyeing him with a combination of wariness and dread, and Michael may have had an unnaturally tight grip on his fork, like he was planning on stabbing Lucifer in the temple with it. The devil put his hands together in a praying-motion, shutting his eyes.

"Dear Lord, be present at our table-" He opened one eye and looked at Castiel. "Check. Be here and everywhere adored."

Someone snorted, and Castiel's head shot up, glaring around at them. Then, without warning, Zachariah jumped up, screeching, dancing around and tugging at his pants. A moment later a squirrel, foaming at the mouth and chirping wildly, popped out of his pants and started clawing its way up to his face.

Zachariah quickly knocked the rabid little forest fauna off his chest, accidentally launching it at Anna, who shrieked and shoved her chair away. Rachel, who was seated beside her, pulled out her sword. "I'll get it!"

And then, completely ignoring the rabid squirrel, she proceeded to hurl her sword at Raphael's head. The archangel narrowly managed to avoid the weapon, which lodged itself into the high back of the chair he was sitting in. He glared viciously at Rachel, who shrugged. "Oops."

"I'll _**oops**_ you, you little-" And once again, Balthazar was forced to launch himself at Raphael and redirect his smiting. This time, though, it wasn't at the table; Uriel just managed to duck in time, the high back of his chair being blown away entirely by the missed smiting.

Balthazar glowered at Raphael. "Can you _please_ resist the urge to _smite_ for ten bloody minutes?"

"She tried to kill him! Her-" Michael thought for a moment, wincing. "Raphael, what _do_ you go by now? He? She? I know we don't have genders, technically, but-"

"Oh my _God_." Gabriel moaned again.

"Yes?" Castiel asked insistently.

"_Not_- Damn it! Just forget I said anything!"

_**BLAM**_.

Virgil had a gun out, and had blown away the rabid squirrel (Which, in the midst of the chaos, had returned its focus to Zachariah). "Got it."

"_**HEY**_."

It was amazing how quickly everyone was actually capable of shutting up.

Lucifer was staring over them all, eyes narrowed. "I am trying- to say- _grace_." Those standing sat back down, and when Lucifer was satisfied that he had their attention, he went right back to the folded hands and the shut eyes, serene as ever. "Thy creatures bless and grant that we may feast in paradise with thee. Amen."

There was more silence, and Castiel fixed everyone with a dark look.

"Amen," They all echoed hastily.

"Good. Now eat."

No one was eager for a repeat performance of the Exorcist-incident or the rabid-squirrel-magically-appearing-in-someone's-pants incident, and so there wasn't a whisper of protest. Everyone picked up their forks and knives and started eating. For maybe five minutes, no one spoke.

Eventually, though, Anna cleared her throat a little. "This is good, Cas. What is it?" Castiel seemed to be pleased, and though he didn't smile, his expression and voice were utterly tranquil.

"One-hundred ten percent pure virgin."

All movements in the room ceased.

Everyone, as one, looked down at their plates. After a second of going pale and/or green, most everyone dropped their forks.

Lucifer just shrugged and went back to eating.

Balthazar sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and then immediately regretted it when he distinctly smelled the meat on his plate.

"You said it was ham."

"I lied."

"Cas, that's beyond disturbing."

"You seem to be familiar with the concept."

"I was referring to the consumption of virginal humans."

There was silence for a moment.

Lucifer looked back and forth. "I think it's good."

"And you wonder why we didn't follow you." Virgil shook his head at Castiel, who sniffed.

"Traditionalist robot."

"Rebellious monster."

"I'd take more offense if you actually _mattered_."

"Hey!" Balthazar cut in brightly, forcing himself to ignore the horrifying fact that Castiel had just made himself into a modern Tantalus. "How about we _not_ talk about the horrifying, bloody war that's _over_ now?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Michael agreed, and Balthazar could see him glancing nervously at Raphael, who was still glaring at Castiel.

There was suddenly a loud explosion and a blinding white light. Everyone turned to the end of the table and saw Virgil slumped over in his chair, dead. Rachel, seated across from him, was straight-faced and innocent, as though that wasn't obviously her sword jutting out of his chest.

"Rachel- Did you just kill Virgil?"

Rachel met Balthazar's eyes, and held his gaze as she coolly stood up, reached across the table and yanked her sword from Virgil's chest, casually wiping his blood off on the skirt of her dress. She sat back down and folded her hands primly on the table.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean."

Everyone stared at her for a moment, and then slowly turned back to their plates.

"You understand now why I had to kill her," Castiel muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Balthazar, who nodded cautiously.

"Think I'm starting to get that, yeah."

"She seems to still be a touch sore about the war."

"I would say so."

"Would anyone like desert?"

Balthazar was surprised that Castiel had actually picked up on the fact that it was very unlikely that anyone was going to be eating the remainder of the meat on their plates- and that he actually cared.

"That depends," Gabriel said warily, "Is it going to be ice cream topped with puppy-blood? Cake decorated with kitten eyes?"

"Chocolate pudding."

"With actual chocolate? Nothing freaky or gross in it? Because I swear, Cas, deserts are sacred to me, if you screw with me on deserts-"

"There is nothing you would consider abnormal about this chocolate pudding, Gabriel. Relax." Balthazar just managed to bite back a snort at the idea of the high-strung psycho-god that just fed them virgin meat telling Gabriel to _relax_.

Castiel snapped his fingers and the plates disappeared, being replaced with decorative desert cups with swirled chocolate pudding in them. Balthazar wondered if it was an oversight or merely Castiel's dark new sense of humor that allowed for a glass to appear in front of the dead Virgil as well.

Lucifer was the first, the one who plunged right on into eating without any hesitation, and suddenly Balthazar got this strange, ugly sense that this was going to be the beginning of a much better friendship between Castiel and Lucifer, because by far- as strange as it sounded- he had been one of the best behaved all night.

God, that was a match-made in Super-Hell.

Slowly, everyone else picked up their spoons and started eating as well, relaxing when all they could taste was chocolate and not some disgusting psycho-Cas-add-in.

Anna, though, did not seem interested in asking how the pudding had been made. Balthazar did not blame her.

"So," Castiel began, drumming his fingers on the table. "Why don't we discuss why you all tried to betray, hurt and or kill me? Or all three?" His eyes narrowed at Rachel. "I would appreciate blatant honesty. Failing to do so will result in a situation much like the one Zachariah found himself in earlier." Zachariah shuddered. "Let's start with you, Rachel."

Rachel, thankfully, had never been short on confidence, and managed to look her former general in the eye without flinching. "You were using methods that were unacceptable."

"We were at war."

"You shouldn't have sunk that low. You were almost as bad as him." She jerked a thumb at Raphael, who rolled his eyes. "It completely negated your stance that we shouldn't be as bad as the people we were fighting."

Castiel looked irritated, but nodded grudgingly nonetheless. "Anna?"

Anna's eyes flipped back and forth. "…Did I betray you?" Castiel thought about that for a moment.

"You slept with Dean."

"I thought you didn't want us mentioning him?" Balthazar inquired.

"It's only okay when I do it." Balthazar rolled his eyes shut.

"You were trying to take me back to heaven, and then you called Zachariah's goons down to get me." Castiel huffed another little sigh.

"I suppose you're right. Zachariah?"

"Does he need an explanation? He's just a dick." Balthazar snorted. Castiel shrugged.

"You're right. Gabriel?"

"You were a fun little pigeon." Gabriel grinned. "That show I dropped you into: Is that where you got the idea for the rabid squirrel?"

"Perhaps."

"Besides, I'm your big brother: I'm supposed to push you around."

"Hn. Uriel?"

"I wanted to raise Lucifer. You got in my way."

"Thank you, little brother." Lucifer said graciously.

"You shouldn't have tried."

Uriel cocked an eyebrow at him and downed a shot of wine. "You two seem to be getting along well enough." Castiel's eyes darted between Lucifer and Uriel, but he said nothing further about it.

"Virgil?" Silence. Everyone turned to look at Virgil's corpse which remained very dead and corpse-like. Castiel cocked an eyebrow. "Oh Virgil? Can you hear me?" A chill ran down Balthazar's spine. "I guess not. We'll skip him, then. Michael?"

"Did I ever try to specifically hurt you?"

"Indirectly. You facilitated the apocalypse, which I opposed."

"But I never did anything to deliberately hurt _you_."

"You were in charge, you should have done better." Michael's mouth clamped shut with some effort, and Balthazar could understand how he might be a touch miffed at being lectured by the same angel- _God_- that had let a number of angels get butchered by demons and Raphael's forces the night he opened the door to purgatory. "Whatever. Raphael? How about you?" Castiel didn't seem to be interested in hiding the malice in his voice.

Raphael glared at him. "I hate you. That's why."

"And I you. Lucifer?"

Lucifer was currently licking the chocolate off his spoon. "I'm the devil."

"Fair enough." And finally, Castiel turned to Balthazar. "And you, Balthazar? Why did you betray me?" Balthazar winced, cleared his throat, shuffled in his seat a bit.

"You were possibly going to blow up the planet… Which would have defeated the purpose of the war in the first place… And I didn't want my little brother to get blown up?" It was true enough, though the idea of the world exploding had been a touch more dire.

Castiel eyed Balthazar for a minute, trying to divine if he was lying or not, and must have eventually deigned that he was telling the truth, because he didn't say anything more about it.

"All right. You can all go."

In retrospect, Balthazar understood the hesitation that crossed everyone's faces at that; the idea that Castiel was just letting them all go without killing anyone was a strange and unexpected one. He was actually quite thankful that the night had only ended with one casualty.

Castiel looked around at them, and then smiled an eerie, freakish smile.

"Unless, of course, you would like to stick around so I can tell you what was really in the pudding."

Everyone went pale. Except Lucifer.

"_DAMN IT!_" Gabriel barked before disappearing, probably off to bleach his mouth. The others quickly departed after him.

Balthazar leaned on the table, eyes shut.

"Let me guess: You _lied_."

Castiel began to laugh, and regardless of whether he had permission or not, Balthazar got the hell out of that room and left God to his mad cackling.

-End

()()

OH MY CAS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW FUN IT WAS TO WRITE THIS.

I mean it. I laughed through writing most of this. It was very entertaining.


End file.
